Gilbert waited until the village was well behind him – until the crooked rooftops, the lines of shallow graves, and even the apprehensive looks of tired residents faded away. Only then did he allow himself to exhale shakily and touch a shaking hand to his chest.
His heart felt like a startled bird. Too fast and feeble. Aurelian's leaving left him with a hollow aching that rang through his bones. I can't come apart here, he reminded himself. Not in front of them. They already consider me a useless boy. They cannot see me breaking.
So he kept walking. Past the last tilled patches of rocky soil. Past the low fence half-collapsed from years of neglect. Until finally he found a gnarled old tree at the edge of the sparse woods, its trunk broad enough to hide him completely if he pressed close.
Gilbert leaned his back against the rough bark, sliding down until he sat in the cold dirt. His hands covered his face. The world smelled of damp moss and old leaves — and under it, still, that faint sickly copper of dried blood.
Okay. Okay… get a grip.
When he finally lowered his hands, the air appeared to hum slightly around him. As if it was waiting.
He hesitantly cleared his throat. "Um, system?" Are you there? "
A voice responded at instantly. Smooth, clear, and almost cheerful—the polite tone of a highly trained AI assistant, accompanied by a subtle ripple of chimes.
"Yes, Lord Gilbert Reinhardt." Voice interface is active. How can I serve you?"
Gilbert shivered. It was one thing to notice floating text. It was quite different to hear a voice react from nowhere — not booming through the trees, not rattling the ground, simply there, somehow inside his mind but unmistakably separate.
He swallowed. "Why am I here? I mean, are we really here? Not only tutorial lines…. Why me?
There was a soft pause. Then the voice answered lightly:
"Because you died."
Gilbert's blood ran cold. The system continued in the same breezy, faintly amused tone.
"Your physical body in your origin world was fatally struck by an oncoming vehicle while you attempted to cross the street — headphones in, volume far too high, enjoying what I must note was an excruciatingly cheesy pop song. My data logs still ring from the last few notes."
Gilbert stared at nothing, mouth dry. The memory hit like a punch. The flash of headlights. The crunch. The sudden soaring weightlessness.
He didn't speak. Couldn't. But that last remark came out rude. The system functioned well. "At that very moment, you had for the first time downloaded the game 'Final Defense' to your portable device, perhaps influenced by your older sister's enthusiasm. You also pushed 'Enter' to validate the initial configuration. Unfortunately, your life terminated just a fraction of a second later."
Its voice nearly brightened. "Perfect convergence. Depending on one's worldview, this may be considered a miracle. Thus, your soul was transferred here. A second chance, so to speak."
Gilbert raised a hand to his forehead, his stomach twisting. "What if I tried to go back? His throat worked painfully. Could I return to Japan by force? My actual life?"
The system's response was quick. "To clarify, your body in your original dimension has died. If you severed this link and returned, you would only exist as a disembodied consciousness, destined to wander without an anchor. In most circumstances, such spirits dissolve.
Gilbert felt a tremble run from his shoulders to his feet. His breath caught. "So… there's no going home."
"Not in any meaningful sense, Lord Reinhardt." He closes his eyes. He pressed them so hard that little sparks flickered behind his eyelashes.
"So, why this game? Why this location? "He rasped out. "Why send me to a dying backwater on the brink of a demon war?"
There was a brief pause. Then the same polite response.
"As previously indicated, you died while downloading 'Final Defense.' Your soul's data was most suitable with this situation at that specific quantum resonance. So, here you are."
He almost laughed—or sobbed. It came out as a harsh croak.
Finally, he took in a strained breath. He opened his eyes. He stared at the hard bark in front of his knees. "Can you do anything else for me?" I mean beyond inventory. Beyond pop-up messages. Can you genuinely help me? "
This time, the voice seemed almost wicked.
"Certainly. I'm your bound system. I may provide analytical support, monitor growth metrics, provide strategic recommendations, and enable new system operations as leveling milestones are met."
Then it added with a strange, melodic amusement:
"You were not supposed to receive the items from Sir Aurelian Flamehart." That divergence was much outside the original scenario parameters. But consider yourself fortunate, My Lord. Isn't this a good thing?"
Gilbert let out a hesitant gasp while running his palm over his mouth. "You sound almost… pleased by that."
Here was a brief shimmer across his vision. Then pale, glowing letters unfolded in front of him, neat and merciless.
[Lord Reinhardt Status]
Full Name: Gilbert ReinhardtAge: 17Title: Young LordAffiliation: House of ReinhardtRace: HumanNickname: "The Useless Lord"
Status Rank: F (No Class)
Total Physical Attributes level: F
Strength: F Magic: F Defense: F Intelligence: F Dexterity: F Constitution: F Charisma: F
Available Skills: N/A
Current Experience: 1 XP(Next Level: 99 XP required)
Gilbert's shoulders dropped lower with each line. By the time he reached the bottom, his mouth had become a narrow, wretched line.
"Even my nickname is awful," he murmured. "The Useless Lord. Who the hell thought that was suitable to include on my official profile?"
The system's voice was as smooth as ever, completely without regret.
"That categorization was developed automatically using the pooled social impression data in your current territory. In summary, it is what most people privately refer to you as."
Gilbert grumbled and slapped his hand across his face. "Great. Wonderful. "Just what I needed." After a moment of contemplative silence, he peered between his fingers and inquired, "Alright then, what about luck? Every game has luck statistics. What is mine? "
There was a small delay, almost as if the system was amused.
"We are not getting into that, Lord Reinhardt."
Gilbert blinked. "What? Why not?"
"Historical player patterns show a consistent inclination to exploit luck metrics in ways that undercut the desired gameplay balance. As a result, your luck attributes are now permanently locked and hidden. Please do not attempt to access them again."
Gilbert let out a choked sound, somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. "So, my luck is literally outside limits? "Just my luck."
"A precisely accurate assessment," the system gladly agreed.
Gilbert released his hands completely, and his head landed softly against the tree. Overhead, sparse leaves moved in a gentle breeze, allowing frigid light to spill in shattered patterns across his lap.
Status: F in everything. No class. No skills. One negative experience point. Even luck is not on the table. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath through his teeth. Then let out a faint sigh. "Okay then. Show me what I can genuinely do. "Bring up the farming system."
He swallowed and then spoke little louder. "System… open the Farming System interface."
A slight ripple crossed his vision, like water disturbed by a tossed stone. Elegant letters glided up in the same uncanny, polite script.
[Farming System Interface Online].
Core Function:
Absorbs farmable resources into your inventory.
Additional features:
1. Will examine and identify local flora, minerals, organics, and monster remains within direct contact.
2. When the user grants permission, the system automatically harvests useable components upon interaction.
3. Resources were turned into stable inventory records that were resistant to deterioration and theft.
Gilbert blinked. "Are you telling me it's not just for wheat and carrots?"
"Not at all, Lord Reinhardt." In this case, the Farming System understands 'farmable' broadly, including biological and elemental components that can be converted into useable resources. This includes plants, soil nutrients, specific minerals, and, yes, even the biological or magical remains of fallen monsters.
Gilbert's mouth became dry. He looked out at the edge of the woods, back to where the village's last conflict had left the ground dark.
So I can tidy up the bodies? Even monsters?
He shivered but pushed himself to continue listening.
The system continued on, pleasantly and efficiently:
"In actuality, you'll only be gaining precious crafting materials, nutrition, or latent magical essence. Upon contact, everything is automatically sorted and stored in your secure inventory. Man up and bury it yourself. Useless Lord"
Gilbert laughed slowly, shakily, and without humor. "I'm Not Useless, just asking… Geez!!"
"If you say so. Anyway, you may try it now if you want. The village's beyond the defense line is currently deserted by villagers or militia, so you are free to experiment on the corpses of dead creatures or troops. If you prefer a less frightening presentation, try it with local natural vegetation."
Gilbert closed his eyes and took a breath. Then he pushed away from the tree. His knees felt wet, but he forced himself upright. "Alright then… show me how to activate it."
"Simply give the verbal or mental command Harvest while making direct contact with a target deemed a valid farmable resource."
Gilbert murmured "Harvest," sliding it around on his tongue. It felt heavy and final, which made his gut churn. However, he returned his gaze to the village's outskirts. Toward the shredded chunks of monster flesh that still lay among churned dirt and splintered spears. If this can help level the playing field or provide a slight advantage...
He squared his shoulders. "Let's try this then."
Gilbert's breath clouded slightly in the cold as he stood among the numerous bodies. Hundreds of twisted monsters lay sprawled across the churned earth—goblins with ruptured bellies, scaled wolf-beasts with half-torn jaws, and piles of fetid viscera where larger demons had fallen. The air was filled with fat flies, and the stench of rot was so strong he could taste it.
I must try it, he persuaded himself. Before something else arrives to scavenge. Or before the peasants dare to get too close. He crouched near a black-furred body, his hand quivering as it brushed against matted hair and fractured scales.
"Alright then," he rasped. "Harvest."
The system's placid, even happy tone purred immediately.
"Command is recognized. Beginning resource extraction."
At instantly, little threads of light sprang from the corpse — faint silver lines, tiny motes of dull green or purple — winding up and around his wrist in a beautiful spiral. They disappeared into thin air, leaving his hand chilly for a brief moment. A ghostly signal flashed across his vision.
[Resources Acquired].
Beast claw x1.
Minor Demon Hide Fragment (x2)
Low-grade Mana Residue (x3)
However, when he peered down, the wolf-beast's body was still there. Still swollen and half-frozen, the jaws were clenched open in a death snarl. Only a little thinness in the hide indicated that something had been taken. Gilbert swallowed. His stomach twisted.
Gilbert worked for hours under a cold, unsympathetic sun.
The churned field remained a graveyard, a dark sea of twisted carcasses with flies buzzing so thickly that it felt as if the air itself was decaying. Each breath rubbed the back of his throat with the bitter taste of blood and old bile. He began cautiously with the giant wolves, B+ class creatures that were each larger than a war horse. Their hides were still sticky with partially frozen gore. When he placed his hand on the first one and said, "Harvest," a familiar swirl of silver and dull red light appeared, running up his arm.
[Resources Acquired]
B-grade Beast Hide x2 Enchanted Claw x1 Mana Residue (Minor) x3
[+5 EXP]
The corpse slumped slightly — fur duller, jaws slack — but still lay heavy and real on the churned mud.
By the tenth wolf, he was moving automatically, methodical.By the thirtieth, his hands shook less.By the fiftieth, he was numb.
B-grade Beast Hide x20 Enchanted Claw x12 Mana Residue (Minor) x20
[+250 EXP]
Then he turned to the thirty double-headed wolf-hounds, which were scattered in ghastly heaps. Their connected necks and lolling jaws made them feel twice as hideous. The first one twitched slightly as his hand landed, tendons still grabbing even after death. Gilbert almost recoiled.
"Harvest."
Light unfurled again, colder this time and tinted with thin blue streaks. A little pulse of air was drawn within.
[Resources Acquired]
B+ Mana-infused Hide x3 Double Beast Fang x2 Lesser Mana Core (Cracked) x1
[+5 EXP]
By the end of thirty, his mind was half blank, operating on grim reflex.
[Total from Wolf-Hounds:]
B+ Mana-infused Hide x10 Double Beast Fang x8Lesser Mana Core (Cracked) x5
[+130 EXP]
He tried some of the smaller demon spawn, twisted imp-like things with tiny claws and bulging eyes. When he pressed a hand to one, the system's tone was almost apologetic. "No valid resources detected. Corpse too degraded or corrupted for safe extraction." Gilbert grimaced. Tried another. Same answer. He moved on.
The goblins at least gave something — twenty small, wiry bodies with slack faces, claws curled under. The system obligingly extracted foul scraps.
[Resources Acquired]
D-grade Goblin Bone Charm x12 Tattered Leather Strip x15 Foul Mana Residue x23
[+2 EXP] each
[Total from Goblins:]
[+40 EXP]
Finally, the Minotaur.
Aurelian's final, powerful strike had left him a monstrous ruin of muscle and dark hide, with ribs smashed open. Its big axe was still half-buried and practically dark.
Gilbert placed his hand on the icy flank.
"Harvest."
The swirl of light was immediate, with richer, darker red interspersed with dazzling gold. It twisted about him in a vicious helix before disappearing into the nothingness.
[Resources Acquired]
A-grade Hardened Demon Horn x2 A-grade Minotaur Heart Fragment x1 A-grade Mana Core (Stable) x1 A-grade Beast Hide x9 Uncommon Elemental Blood x4 A-grade Artifact x1
[+10 EXP]
His head swam for a moment. His hand dropped away, fingers tingling. The whirl of harvesting lights eventually slowed. Gilbert's hands felt rough and chilly down to the bone. The churned field remained a horrific testament, with victims scattered everywhere, emptied of value but untouched in agony.
It everything happened in a gradual, dream-like cascade. As Gilbert took a step back from the last corpse, his hands quivering and his breath misting in faint frantic clouds, the system's delicate chime rang through his head like the toll of a distant silver bell.
Then the screens began to bloom. Before he could even catch his breath, another wave of light unfurled. The numbers crawled upward in precise, graceful arcs. Gilbert's chest contracted tightly. It wasn't like in stories where power suddenly poured through his veins.
But he felt something - a subtle solidity beneath his ribs, a breath that wasn't as harsh, and a firmness to his stance that he hadn't realized was lacking. The system rippled again, rolling on inexorably.
Then Level 5. Then Level 6. Each time the system's polite voice echoed the same calm lines, each time his body shifted by the barest fraction.
Finally, the notifications slowed.
[LEVEL UP!]
Level 7 achieved.
All attributes increased by +0.5.
(60/130 XP to Level 8)
Gilbert let out a long, shaking breath. His shoulders dropped, the tension in them unwinding all at once so sharply he almost staggered He lifted his hands in front of his face — still pale, still thin, still the hands of a sheltered boy who'd spent most of his life tucked away from real combat.
But his heartbeat didn't gallop so wildly now. His legs didn't quiver under his own slight weight. Even his chest didn't feel quite so hollow.
"I… actually leveled up," he whispered.
Seven times. In a single day.
Lord Reinhardt (Gilbert Reinhardt).
Level: 7 (60/130 XP).
Strength: F+3.5
Magic: F+3.5
Defense: F+3.5
Intelligence: F+3.5
Dexterity: F+3.5
Constitution: F+3.5.
Charisma: F+3.5
Inventory capacity: 100 slots.
The system's voice resonated in his mind, pleasant and strangely brilliant.
"Note that stat improvements are tiered at +0.5 each level based on current rank and source of experience. Further advancement will necessitate more difficult engagements or higher-level nurturing. Congratulations, Lord Reinhardt, on surviving your first significant harvest."
Gilbert let out a giggle mixed with a shaky sob. He spun in a slow round, taking in the dark field around him — corpses lying everywhere, drained of any usefulness but still monstrous, reminders that the border between hunter and hunted here was thinner than paper.
I'm still really feeble. Even after all this, if something else arrived, something half as powerful as that Minotaur, I'd die just as easily, but beneath that concept lurked a fragile, obstinate ember.
Because, despite his frailty, he was stronger than the youngster who had stumbled here the day before.